


Scabior

by VoldemortAtTheYuleBall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Backstory, Drama, No Romance, umbitch is a racist little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9799217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoldemortAtTheYuleBall/pseuds/VoldemortAtTheYuleBall
Summary: A look at the inside life and thoughts of a muggleborn Scabior, one of the most prominent snatchers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Probably a one shot, maybe two. All credit for characters goes to JK Rowling my queen. Stays as close to canon as I could with the storyline. It's a 1 shot short short and I will only make it a 2 shot if it is requested in the comments. I would be fully committed to making another chapter if it is requested but I am working on another, very important fic at the moment and do not even know if this one is even very good. The warnings and ratings are because I'm careful and will only apply to chapter 2 if there is one.

Something was happening, that much he knew. Something was sneaking its way into their society, no one was to be trusted. Suddenly muggleborns were being rounded up, questioned, accused of defiling wizarding society and stealing magic. There wasn’t a day when the air wasn’t pervaded with a dark black fog and every morning the world woke to a new ‘unexplained’ disappearance or killing. It was always a muggle family or a muggleborn. Scabior was scared, of course, he was a muggleborn Slytherin. He’d dealt with his fair share of racism. He’d heard the word mudblood more times than his own name, and been attacked, or ignored far too often during his schooling. 

That Tuesday started like any other. He had been heading to work on another dark morning when, as he took up his place in the room printing the daily prophet, he was called to the office of Dolores Umbridge. As he entered the painfully pink room he noticed a sinister air and decided decided that he’d rather be back in Azkaban than be here. The memories that came back at this thought made him hate the place even more. The walls were pink, and covered with decorative plates, each having a unique depiction of a different kitten, the files on the shelves were pink, the pink desk had a pink tablecloth, even the watermarked parchment with the seal of the ministry was pink. The large puffy chair behind the desk was pink, the two smaller chairs across from it were pink, and the frame with a picture of the minister was pink. It was nauseating, just as the toadish woman sitting at the desk, dressed in yet more pink was. 

“Mr. Scabior, take a seat.” her voice had a repulsively sweet and girly affect. She cleared her throat and motioned to a chair when he made no move to do as she had told. He sat and she spoke, this was when he realized that the imperius curse made no change to the malicious disposition that had always belonged to this woman. “The ministry, as you know has been, cleansing our society of mud -muggleborns and the crimes they commit against magical people and require some assistance in this difficult endeavor. We need you to bring in some of your own kind for questioning.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we will be forced to detain you for trial, and it will not necessarily have a good outcome.”

“What does this entail?”

“We give you a list of them to capture and you bring in the mudbl - muggleborns after capturing them. Of course if you catch anyone from the wanted posters which we have hung all over England then you are welcome to bring them in as well.” He contemplated this, trying drive his school years and time in Azkaban from his mind to focus on the importance of this moment. He refused to get his face on a wanted poster again, the run was terrifying. These trials were unpleasant as it could get, especially after dealing with dementors for so many years. He remembered the feeling of being called a mudblood, it got under your skin. He would get through this war without a trial, or his face plastered across Britain as he hid, and Azkaban or death was not an option. These outweighed the immense weight of the other side of this decision. He knew that the list contained parents, and even children. He was not going to die to save them though. Besides, he reasoned to himself, he would only be bringing them in, it was the fault of the ministry if they were sentenced. His logic overid his emotions, of which he regularly had few, Azkaban did that to people.

“Fine” and the toad across the table giggled in vicious delight.

“Perfect!” he stood defeated, rising from his chair. She stuck out her chubby little hand and they shook. “Now then, sign this.” pulling out a piece of parchment with a large amount of loopy writing in red ink.

“What is it?”

“A contract, stating in writing that you agree to this proposition.”

“May I have a quill?”

“Why of course.” she said this with a particularly sugary and venomous tone which sent a shiver up his spine. She removed a quill and handed it to him.

“There isn’t any ink.”

“You won’t be needing it.”he inwardly scoffed but signed the parchment. Odd as it seemed, the quill worked. Moments after he had started to sign, the back of his hand began to tingle, and then burned. When he put the quill back down a cut had opened, in the exact form which his signature took. He glanced back and forth between his hand and the quill. It stung, and a small drop of blood had begun to drip down his hand.

“A blood quill?! You used a blood quill on me?!”

“Of course not, how dare you accuse me of such a crime?"

“Fine, I signed. Now give me my list and I’ll be on my way.”

"Welcome to the ranks of the dark lord, you are now a snatcher." she handed him a two foot long roll of parchment and he exited the abhorrent place, of course not before she had the chance to shoot him a cruel grin. What the bloody hell had he done?


End file.
